Disclaimer: All rights to Princess and the Goblin go to George MacDonald.

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A Matter of Perspective

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His tail bustled as he hissed at the strange and hideous creatures who frightened his mistress. His—although that can be considered wimpy—meow of warning had no effect on them for these small and terrible things brought themselves sinister joy by scaring the poor wits out of his young mistress.

Turnip's ears perked up, however, when he caught noise of something in the distance. Being a cat, he had good hearing and from what he saw from the uncomfortable twitching of those nasty little creatures, they too heard the tune in the distance.

The sound—now identified as someone singing—made the cat cease in his threatening yet pathetic meows as the creatures that were so fearsome before looked as helpless as a new born child. His ears gave a twitch in pleasure at the sound. His tail swaying leisurely as it came closer. Meanwhile, his horrible foes were in the process of retreating away from the song as if the very notes made their ears burn like hot coal.

Turnip hid a smirk as he approached the ugly blue cat from behind. Giving off a meow, the once horrid creature gave a yelp and sprang all over the place in fright. Hissing a snicker, the cat thumped his tail in glee at his accomplishment of protecting his mistress.

It was only a few seconds later that he and his mistress had discovered who was the one who had frightened those terrible beings away.

It was a boy—perhaps a few years older than his mistress, the cat observed. The boy came closer to them in concern as he inquired the condition of Turnip's mistress. His mistress claimed that she and her cat were both fine—that she was only scared was all.

And as her cat, he had protected his mistress well, or at least Turnip thought so at least.

Nonetheless, the cat had to give credit to the boy. After all, he had scared away most of them. And he could carry a tune, which Turnip had to give him credit for.

His mistress held him in her arms as she conversed with the newcomer. The boy was also pleasant, Turnip found himself admitting. Usually he wasn't very comfortable with other people—especially those who come near his mistress, but he found he liked this boy.

As for his mistress, she was listening curiously as the boy told her about the goblins for she had never heard of such things. Goblins—at least the cat knew what to call those nasty creatures who sent their pets out to scare his poor mistress.

The boy seemed to have figured out they really weren't from where he was. He inquired Turnip's mistress of his discovery to which she did not deny. Turnip narrowed his eyes slightly when he heard the boy say "Typical" and gestured Turnip's mistress to follow him. As if all people of the castle didn't know directions! His mistress is the princess! She is a very sheltered girl due to her elders! It is not her fault she did not know the way back because no one ever told her about these areas!

However, his mistress calmed his thoughts of scratching the boy's face by stroking his ear. Turnip liked when people stroked his ear—especially his mistress. He also reminded himself that if it wasn't for this boy, his mistress would be still lost and terrified. A wave of guiltiness flooded Turnip as he should've known—being an animal and all—how to get back to the castle in the first place. After all, it was his duty to protect his mistress.

Call him possessive if you wish, but his mistress had done so much for him every day. She cherished him and told him all her secrets. She took care of him and loved him like a member of her family—almost as much as her dear father. So, it is only natural he would be protective of his position to protect his mistress. He couldn't really do anything else to show his gratitude but that.

Lost in his thoughts, Turnip almost missed it. That small flicker that he would've never noticed were it not for his keen observant skills. His cat ears perked up in interest as he watched his mistress and the boy interact.

He noticed the boy being very polite to her; helping her walk so she didn't trip. The way he held his mistress's hand when he did so—as if he never wanted to let go of it. Their hands fit perfectly well together, Turnip admitted begrudgingly. Like a puzzle that has finally been pieced together.

He peeked up at the two humans as they walked together. Did they notice it? Did they notice how his mistress smiled when the boy talked to her? Did they notice the boy walked a little closer to his mistress unconsciously? Did they notice their once adjoined hands twitching at their sides towards the other hand itching for contact?

No, they did not, he concluded. His mistress and the boy remained oblivious to their attraction towards the other. His cat ears picked up his mistress asking about the mines the boy mentioned in a bored fashion. One of his ears twitched lightly as it listened to his mistress's quickening heartbeat that he was sure she did not even notice. No doubt the boy's heart was going at the same pace—but he probably noticed it for he was walking ahead of Turnip's mistress instead of next to her like he was doing before. And indeed, he could see the boy rather preferred the latter instead of the former he was currently doing.

It seemed his mistress desired the same position for she unnoticeably approached the boy's side so they were walking side by side once more. They fell into step with the other perfectly—like it was a dance only they knew and mastered with only each other.

Turnip was absentminded to their small talk knowing that he didn't have to worry about anything. They were far too oblivious to progress in their unknown desire to want more. He didn't worry about protecting his mistress at the moment. Besides, his mistress was quite taken with the boy so he didn't interfere lest it upset her.

It was only when he heard the large nurse woman calling for his mistress did he come back to reality. Truth by told, he rather liked it when his mistress would tease and run circles around the old gal. The large nanny was a rival to him in the position of being his mistress's protector. That position only belonged to him, thank you.

His mistress stepped forward as she heard the large nanny woman call her. Turnip also took a step forward for he was put on the ground by his mistress to walk on his own a long time ago.

The boy realized that he was no longer needed and began to bid Turnip's mistress goodbye. Turnip was sure the boy did not notice the sadness flicker in his eyes at departing nor did he understand the ache he felt. Nevertheless, Turnip did know, and he would not give any hints to the boy of what he was feeling. More time for him to have his mistress to himself.

Turnip's tall slightly bustled as his mistress gave the boy her name. It wasn't necessary; it's not like they'll see him again, he thought with narrowed eyes. Still, despite those reassuring thoughts, the cat knew deep down something in his gut was telling him otherwise.

"Let me give you a kiss to thank you" he heard his mistress say nearly giving the poor cat a heart attack. Maybe subconsciously his mistress was catching on to her desires. Which spelled trouble for him as her protector it seemed. Turnip didn't think he had to deal with this matter of attraction until his mistress was older!

And to more displeasure, even with the boy's stammer in surprise, Turnip could see the boy wanted the same thing as his mistress. Curse it all! The cat thought in distain. They were indeed not as oblivious as he thought they were.

Of course he could break this whole thing up. Of course he could meow impatiently to drive his mistress to leave the boy without a kiss. Of course he could easily intervene.

But a part of him—a tiny part, he might add—told him to keep quiet. To actually look at what the cat has seen tonight. To review in his head what he had observed and gathered by watching these two children.

And that's when Turnip sighed in his mind in defeat and turned away giving them their privacy. He owed it to this boy for helping his mistress. He supposed he could let them have their moment this time.

"Princess Irene! What are you doing?!" Lady Nanny's voice shrieked stopping the two before their lips touched. The cat didn't think it was possible, but he could've kissed that old gal at the moment. This time he was in the clear of his mistress and the boy doing anything like that for now.

He heard the boy exclaim in shock as he did not know his mistress's true identity and that she never told him. Turnip couldn't help but snicker at that. What was more amusing was when his mistress replied saying that the boy simply didn't ask.

Both of them blind to the slight coloring on his cheeks—not lost on the cat though—he excused himself saying his family needed him at home. Turnip chuckled in his mind; poor boy must've covered up his embarrassment with an excuse.

Well, Turnip was safe this time around. Both he and his mistress are fine. Neither of them came to harm's way and what's better is that nothing had escalated with that boy. Consequently, as soon as he thought that, his mistress decided to call back to the boy asking for his name.

Curdie, he said. His name was Curdie, and with that he disappeared out of sight leaving his mistress with a dazed smile on her features and a dreamy expression.

Could he not win? It seemed not for in that one expression Turnip knew he lost before he even begun. He could not stop this. He could not deny what was happening. Whether he liked it or not. Whether he disapproved of it and felt threatened by it, he could not do a thing.

The damage was done. The dice was cast. And this Curdie was competition to which Turnip will never beat.

"Curdie…" his mistress murmured the boy's name with importance… and another emotion which would be considered too old for her to yet experience in the eyes of her elders.

Turnip knew better though. It was there. That emotion was in both of them. And he knew sooner or later, that boy will come back to them and he'll have to compete for his mistress. He'll have to fight with the boy on the position on being her prime protector.

But suppose not all hope is lost. Maybe he is looking at this in the wrong way. The boy was nice to his mistress. He would make her happy when Turnip wasn't there. He would be able to do things for his mistress that Turnip himself could not.

In addition his mistress was quite taken with the boy. Yes, perhaps he is looking at this the wrong way. Now he doesn't have to worry about the future or any cruel man taking his mistress for themselves. He didn't have to mind himself about her wedding some prince and leaving him for another castle. Ah yes, this seems to be a good arrangement indeed. He might even be able to get some cat naps in while the boy would watch over his mistress in one of her adventurous journeys.

Yes, Turnip came to the conclusion he could share—not give, share—his mistress with this boy. Just as long as the boy doesn't try to take up most of her time from him.

Besides, it was better sharing her with him than that lady nanny.

Certainly, this whole ordeal could be to his advantage. It was only a matter of perspective.

Karin: So, how was it? Yeah, I know it wasn't as good as "Gone" but I wanted to do something in Turnip's point of view. I think he would kind of possessive of Irene since he's her only friend so he might've felt threatened by Curdie at first when he noticed something was there between Curdie and Irene. Come on, we all know Turnip can see it and I think that's why he trusts Curdie because Irene likes him. I know it's kinda OOC, but please bear with me. Hope you enjoyed it anyway.

See ya Next time!

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